She pretends to straighten the shelf but leans over just enough for him to see her ass wiggle in those tight stockings. Bent over the armrest of that old leather chair, tits bouncing as she takes it slow at first—then suddenly slams back down like she’s been waiting years. The kitchen countertop creaks under her weight as he pulls her hips up from behind, fingers digging into her thighs. She moans loud enough for anyone passing by to hear. Flips onto all fours on the rug right there in front of him, ass high—he doesn’t even bother with foreplay before driving deep. Her nails clawing at the carpet when she comes apart around his cock.
